


A Hunter in the Streets but a Fangirl in the Sheets

by EmeraldOcean



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Case Fic, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fantasizing, Kinda Cracky, Light Angst (so light that if you blink you'll miss it), M/M, Masturbation, Pining Dean, Roleplay, Shower Sex (masturbation), Smut, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldOcean/pseuds/EmeraldOcean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hollywood haunting is small potatoes for the Winchesters, but Dean jumps at the opportunity to meet one of his favorite actors while simultaneously doing whatever he can to take his mind off the angel that he left behind in Purgatory. Everything doesn't go exactly according to plan but when does it ever, really?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hunter in the Streets but a Fangirl in the Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an idea for a Steve/Dean PWP but then plot happened and Cas happened so what can I say? I hope you enjoy it anyway!

“So check this out…” Dean pauses mid-swig of his beer, raising an eyebrow at his little brother. They’ve been at it for a couple of hours now, holed up in Rufus’s old cabin, searching the internet for any possible cases. 

Honestly though, Dean stopped searching about twenty minutes ago, choosing instead to visit parts of the web that are a little less news-worthy and a little more porny. He spent a year running for his life in Purgatory and ever since he’s been out, he’s been too upset about losing Cas to think about getting laid. But Dean’s starting to get pretty antsy, so he tries to decide whether to head to the local bar this evening or if he’d rather just stay in. The cabin is seriously lacking in privacy for a session of self-love, but Dean doesn’t know if he really feels up to the effort it will take to head into town and find a willing partner. 

“It says here that there was a mysterious death on the set of the new Captain America movie,” Sam continues. 

Captain America?! Dean quickly lowers his beer bottle to the scarred oak table with a loud thud, pushing his laptop aside to make room for Sam’s, already feeling butterflies take up residence in his stomach just at the thought of his favorite superhero. (Sure, Batman is his favorite too, but comparing DC to Marvel is like comparing Star Trek to Star Wars – they’re each perfect in their own way so why bother setting them up against one another?) And there’s just something about Chris Evans that does it for Dean – the way he fills out that uniform like he was poured into it and the fact that he does so many of his own fight scenes. What Dean wouldn’t give to go toe-to-toe with him… he imagines that sparring with Cap would make for some truly amazing foreplay. 

“Mysterious how?” Dean asks as he quickly scans the article. 

“Apparently, one of the guys who’s responsible for setting off the explosions during the action sequences was burned to death,” Sam explains.

“What’s so mysterious about that,” Dean asks, “I mean, accidents happen, right? Maybe he just got a little careless – miscalculated or something?” 

“Yeah, but get this,” Sam continues, “He was found on set but there were no signs of any explosives in his vicinity and the area around him was completely untouched by fire. They’re thinking that it might be a body dump but a witness claims that she saw the man only fifteen minutes earlier, right before observing all the lights flickering on and off.”

“So we’re thinking ghost?” Dean asks.

“Probably… I mean, it’s pretty far to go for such a simple hunt – they’re filming in Cleveland and we’re all the way out here in Montana – it’s something like a twenty nine hour drive from here to there. Maybe we could make some calls, see if anyone else is closer…” Dean is standing up and grabbing his jacket before Sam can even finish his sentence. 

“No way, Sammy… this is Captain America we’re talkin’ about here! It’s our patriotic duty to go gank this ghost!” Dean’s never collected his gear so fast in his life, moving around the room like the Flash, picking up weapons and clothing and tossing them in his duffle that’s sitting on the couch. “Hurry up, Sam! You said it yourself – Cleveland is far as shit. We’ve gotta get a move on!” 

Sam just rolls his eyes and shakes his head affectionately, moving to start packing his own items at a more reasonable pace. Dean can’t help but feel like a kid the night before Christmas – a big ball of nervous excitement. He’s headed to the set of Captain America – he almost can’t believe it! Time to bring out his A-game, dean thinks… Chris Evans will never know what hit him. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Approximately 28 hours later (Dean had absolutely turned down Sam’s suggestion that they stop at a motel and catch a few hours of sleep on the way, choosing instead to nap between driving shifts and stop only long enough for gas and snacks. He’d also driven like a bat out of hell, managing to shave a whole hour off their drive time) Dean finds himself in the bathroom of a motel just outside of Cleveland, Ohio, stripping off the last of his clothes and stepping under the warm spray of the shower before closing the curtain along with his eyes. 

He and Sam have decided to go the fed route with this case – choosing this instead of going undercover as crew members like they had the last time they worked a case on a movie set. Fibbing your way into a d-list horror flick is one thing, but attempting to lie your way onto the set of a multi-million dollar production is a whole other kettle of fish. And if the brothers expect to be taken seriously, they can’t just stroll onto set wearing rumpled suits and smelling of a cross-country road trip. So the boys had taken the time to hang their suits and iron their shirts and now Dean is taking his turn in the shower while Sam goes to get coffee and sandwiches. 

Dean also has another reason to want to take a little while to prepare himself before going to the set. Dean’s brain has been in constant fantasy mode ever since they left Montana and not only is he finding it hard to focus on the case, but if he doesn’t do something to take the edge off soon, Dean knows that there’s a very real possibility of coming face to face with Captain America while sporting a raging hard-on (pun most definitely intended). 

Dean squirts some shampoo into the palm of his hand, and then proceeds to wash his hair. He’s already half hard, with a pleasant warmth beginning to pool low in his gut, but he’s got a little bit of time and he doesn’t want to rush this. He rinses out the shampoo, letting the suds run down his face and over his chest, his right hand following the path, stopping to pinch a nipple before continuing on down his stomach and finally landing on his cock. 

He gives it a couple of lazy pulls before picking up the bar of soap and working up a lather. He spends a few minutes slowly washing his body, the sensual glide of slippery hands over the smooth, firm skin causing a dreamy sort of calm to settle over him. 

With his eyes closed, Dean conjures up an image of Chris as he looks in his WWII military Captain’s uniform. He usually likes to fantasize about him in his stars and stripes but occasionally he uses this image – there’s something about that self-deprecating smirk that he gives in the movie theater scene and the way he looks so comfortable in his more leisure moments that makes Dean want to just trail his fingers over those insignias and rub up against him like a cat in heat. The kissing scene with Natalie Dormer is part of it too – It helps Dean imagine what Chris, as Steve, would look like when kissing Dean. 

So that’s how his fantasy starts… Dean imagines that it’s him in Natalie’s place instead – congratulating Steve on his accomplishment and thanking him for his service. But instead of Peggy interrupting them, he imagines that he pulls Steve into a supply closet instead. 

He thinks of kissing Steve thoroughly in the dull golden glow of the overhead light, coaxing the shy man into opening his mouth and sliding their tongues together. 

The stifling atmosphere of the steamy shower helps Dean to pretend that the sweat prickling at his skin is instead caused by the growing heat of their two bodies in the enclosed space of the supply closet. Dean starts to breathe a bit harder, smoothing his soapy hand down the column of his neck, imagining that what he’s feeling is Steve’s mouth and tongue instead. 

Fantasy Steve uses slightly shaking fingers to undo the buttons on Dean’s uniform, exposing his chest and moving to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as he uses the fingers of his other hand to pinch the neglected one. Dean moans as he uses his own hands to pinch the hard buds, increasing the sensitivity as he tugs more forcefully as the moments go by. He’s completely hard now, his cock throbbing a bit as it practically begs to be touched. 

Back in the supply closet, Dean lifts Steve’s head and kisses him forcefully before pulling back and slowly dropping to his knees. He mouths at the hard outline of Steve’s erection, making the Captain drop his head back and breathe out, “Jesus... Mary and Joseph...” Dean chuckles at fantasy Steve – of course the good little Catholic boy would use that as an expletive.

When Dean looks up at Steve, the Captain looks back down at him with a glazed look in his hooded eyes. Dean unbuckles Steve’s belt and pulls down his zipper, not taking his eyes off the man. Then he sees Steve’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard when Dean pulls down his uniform pants, taking the standard issue boxers with them, and freeing Steve’s larger than average sized cock. 

He grasps the base of Steve’s rock hard erection in one hand and swipes his tongue over the remainder, tasting the leaking pre-come at the tip. In the shower, Dean uses two fingers as a substitute, licking the length of them before plunging them into his mouth. 

He can’t stand to not be touching himself for a moment longer so Dean imagines that he’s reaching down to free his own dick from the confines of his pants, stroking himself lightly as he enthusiastically sucks on Steve’s cock. Both fantasy Dean and actual Dean groan at the electric feel of their hand firmly sliding up and down their aching cocks. 

Dean’s been pretty worked up for a pretty long time at this point so it’s not long before he feels that familiar tightening in his groin telling him that he’s going to come. He imagines that Steve is close too so he faces the shower head and speeds up his stroking while he tightens his grip. He keeps his eyes closed and imagines that he pulls off of Steve’s cock, tilting his head up while he continues to stroke the Captain. When Dean’s so close he can taste it, he says, “That’s it, Cap… You gonna come? I want you to come. Come right on my face, Baby.” Then Dean steps a bit closer so that the spray of the shower head is hitting his face and he comes with a loud groan, hand bracing against the shower wall to support him. 

“ _Fuck…_ ” Dean feels like a limp noodle, all boneless and jelly-like and ready to collapse and sleep for a couple of days. Though, if he did that he would miss the opportunity to see the real-life Captain America in person, so he takes his hand off of the wall and steps completely under the spray, making sure to rinse away all of the soap and shampoo, and whatever bodily fluids that may still cling to him. 

He shuts off the water and dries himself off, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist to find Sam sitting at the small table, eating his sandwich while he does something on his laptop. 

“You ok there, Dean? I thought I heard shouting coming from the bathroom.” Sam’s mild look of concern doesn’t fool Dean – he can see the amusement behind that expression because Sam knows that his remark will cause his brother embarrassment. 

“Shut up, Bitch,” Dean says as he grabs the other sandwich and takes a huge bite. Sam just snickers and returns to his own lunch. Dean doesn’t really care though, in a couple of hours he’ll be on the set of Captain America, face to face with Chris Evans and his beautiful blue eyes and his perfect smile… nothing can make that not awesome. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, maybe this isn’t quite as awesome as Dean had imagined. Chris is here, somewhere, but the brothers haven’t even had the opportunity to see him, much less talk to him. The actor hadn’t seen the body, apparently didn’t even really know the victim, so instead Dean and Sam are listening to the very chatty woman who had seen the victim shortly before his death as she practically tells the guy’s whole life story… and her life story… and her _cat’s_ life story? 

“Mitzy just looooved Jack… always had, ever since she was a kitten and Jack would come over to visit my roommate Luis. She couldn’t get enough of how he scritched her behind the ears. So, I thought it was weird when he came over last weekend and Mitzy wouldn’t go near him, you know?” Sam is nodding along sympathetically like he always does and Dean thinks he’s going to scream if he has to listen to this woman jabber on about her damn cat for one more second. 

“Excuse me, Ms. Leptin?” Dean says. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but what does your cat have to do with Jack’s death?” The sooner she gets to the point, the sooner Dean can find and ‘question’ the delectable Mr. Evans.

“Oh, well I was thinking, you know, how animals can sense things before they happen, right? So maybe Mitzy could sense that Jack was going to die. I feel so bad for not saying something to him about it. I mean, maybe if I had pointed it out he would have been more careful with the explosives…” She starts crying then, noisily sniffing and burying her face in her hands. “He’s such a good cat. I just know he was trying to tell us something…” 

Dean rolls his eyes and Sam throws him a bitchface before awkwardly patting the witness on the shoulder. “Thank you for your time, ma’am. You’ve been very helpful. And I’m sorry about your friend.” She just sniffs loudly again and nods her head before wandering off. 

“’Very helpful’, Sam? The only thing that she helped me with is to remind me to stay away from cat people. She didn’t know anything about what happened here or about any grudges that this guy may have accumulated in life.” 

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like this guy was the only reason for the ghost’s attack. Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Or maybe it has something to do with the crew… or the cast? Why don’t we split up – you ask around amongst the behind the scenes people and I’ll question the actors.”

“You just want to get your fangirl on around Captain America.”

“Shut up, Sam. I do not.” Dean looks around frantically to make sure no one overheard Sam’s not-entirely-inaccurate statement. 

“Whatever you say, Dean. Meet me back here in a couple of hours or call me if you find out anything sooner. Oh, and don’t forget to check for EMF.” Dean nods his agreement and turns to go, but not before Sam says (a little louder than absolutely necessary), “And try not to drool on Chris!” 

Dean shoots Sam a murderous look over his shoulder before stalking out of the Craft Services tent. He does not drool, fuck you very much, Sam. 

He loses the scowl though as he rounds the corner and see the man himself, walking up the stairs to his trailer, all decked out in his stars and stripes. Dean picks up the pace a bit and breathes into the palm of his hand, making sure that his breath isn’t too offensive. 

A moment later he’s knocking on the door of the trailer and none other than Captain America is answering the door, a candy bar in one hand and a polite smile on his perfect lips. 

“What’s up?” Chris takes a bite of the candy bar, his tongue swiping along the corner of his mouth to lick off the small smear of chocolate that was left behind. 

“Um… I… uh…” Dean feels more nervous than he has in longer than he can remember. Jesus, he can’t even form a complete sentence. 

“Do I know you?” Chris quirks his head to the side and narrows his blue eyes, a look of confusion on his handsome face. And fuck, if that doesn’t make Dean want the man even more – the look reminds him so much of Cas and Dean misses him so much. He just wants to grab Chris by his ridiculous face and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow – what he wishes that he’d done every day he spent with the angel in Purgatory, before he had to go and ruin everything by failing to keep a hold of his friend’s hand when he stepped through that damn portal. But he can’t think about that now. If he thinks about it then the guilt will eat him alive and he’s got to keep going for Sam’s sake. So he tries to banish all thoughts of the angel from his mind (easier said than done) and focus on the man in front of him, and maybe try to remember how to speak before Chris calls security and has him thrown out for being a weirdo. 

“Yes… I mean, no, you don’t know me. My name is agent Iommi and I’m with the FBI…” Dean flashes his fake badge and Chris’s eyes widen a bit, his eyebrows shooting up as he steps back and holds the door open to allow Dean to enter the trailer. “Thank you.” Dean nods his head and slips the badge back into his pocket, turning back to look at Chris as he closes the door. 

“What can I do for you, agent?” Chris motions for Dean to be seated on the small loveseat located just beyond the entrance. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Evans…” 

“Please, call me Chris.” Dean smiles and nods as Chris plops down beside him, bringing one leg up to rest on the cushion, splaying himself toward Dean with a grin on his face. “This isn’t about all that porn on my computer, is it? Because I’ll have you know that at least half of it was put there by Sebastian… that horny fuck has no sense of boundaries.” He just keeps grinning at Dean and the Hunter can’t help but blush and look down at his notepad as he shifts in his seat. His cock is definitely starting to take interest in the situation and Jesus, if Chris keeps saying words like ‘porn’ and ‘horny’, Dean doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself from kneeling down on the ground and begging the man to let him suck his dick. 

“Um… no.” Dean clears his throat. His voice has gone all husky all of a sudden – gee, he wonder’s why? “I’m actually here because of the death of the crew member, Jack Harris, a few days ago. We’re just asking around, trying to find out if anyone saw anything… maybe talked to the victim before it happened?” 

“Oh, right!” Chris’s expression becomes solemn at that and he shakes his head slightly as he looks down at the hand in his lap. “Of course I’d heard about that. Filming was delayed for a day and we all donated to a funeral fund. I didn’t know him though… honestly I don’t think I ever even spoke to the man. If I did, I don’t remember. I’m sorry, I wish I could be more help.” 

“There’s no need to apologize, Chris. Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions, though? They might seem strange, but I assure you it will be helpful.” That smile is back on Chris’s face and Dean can’t help the small smile that graces his own lips – the man’s happiness is infectious. 

“Go right ahead, agent. I’m happy to help in whatever way you may require.” Did he just… Did Captain America just wink at him? Oh God, this interview could end very well or very badly – he just hopes that his strange questions don’t freak the guy out. 

Dean clears his throat once again before starting. “Have you experienced any cold spots around the set? Seen any flickering lights? Any weird sounds – maybe like rats skittering in the walls?”

“Uhhhh... no? I don’t think so. I mean, it’s Cleveland so it’s cold sometimes and the special effects result in flickering lights on occasion… but not any more than usual. And it’s usually pretty loud around here so I don’t know if I’d even be able to tell if I heard something out of the ordinary.” Dean pretends to scribble down his response on his notepad but what he’s really focusing on is the sound of Chris’s voice. He wonders what that voice would sound like moaning Dean’s name. 

“What about legends? Do the cast or crew have any stories that they like to tell about mysterious deaths or strange occurrences? Maybe something that they like to use to haze new members of the team?”

Chris chuckles and shifts a little closer to Dean, bringing his arm up to rest on the back of the loveseat, his fingers a hair's breadth away from the side of Dean’s neck. “What, do you mean like hauntings or something? Bloody Mary? Hook Man? That sort of thing?” Dean is having a hard time focusing on anything other than the heat he thinks he can feel radiating off of Chris’s fingers. “Aren’t we a little old for ghost stories, agent?” 

“Well, you know, no stone unturned… no theory too out-there.” Chris is now biting his lower lip and looking at Dean speculatively, the hand in his lap resting perilously close to his crotch. “Is it hot in here? It feels like it’s hot in here.” 

Dean doesn’t know what the hell is wrong with him. Captain freakin’ America is throwing out some definite signs that he’s interested and all Dean can do is blush like a thirteen year-old girl. _Damn it, Winchester… This is exactly what you wanted – get your shit together and do something about it!_

“No, I don’t think it’s hot in here… must just be you.” Chris gives him a pointed look and Dean is sure that he can feel the barest brush of fingertips along the side of his neck. He shivers and flutters his eyes closed and the next thing he knows, he has a lapful of super soldier and he’s being pressed back into the couch while being thoroughly kissed.

And, oh sweet mother-of-all, it’s even better than he had imagined. Steve Rogers may be a blushing virgin, but Chris Evans is anything but. Dean can feel the man’s erection digging into his own rapidly hardening groin while he rolls his hips down and tongue-fucks Dean’s mouth. 

Dean’s not quite sure what to do with his hands but he figures – _in for a penny, in for a pound_ – so he grabs Chris’s ass in both hands and grinds their hips together. The material of Chris’s uniform pants is pretty stiff and rough and Dean suddenly hates that he’s wearing it, even though he’d been so excited to see him in it mere moments before.

Chris groans and pulls back, and then proceeds to loosen Dean’s tie and unbutton the top couple of buttons on his shirt. “I’ve always had a fantasy about being with an FBI agent.” He dips his head to nose along Dean’s jaw, sucking kisses into the sensitive skin there before speaking again. “Do you have handcuffs?”

“Um… no, sorry. I must have left them in my other suit.” Oh shit, Chris is into role-play. Maybe he’ll let Dean call him ‘Cap’.”

"It’s no matter… I’ve got my own pair.” _Fuck, this is hot_ , Dean thinks. Chris goes back to attacking Dean’s mouth – licking, and sucking, and biting while he runs his hands through Dean’s short hair, certainly destroying the carefully gelled spikes he’d spent much too long on perfecting this morning. 

Before they can get any further though, they’re startled apart by a loud exclamation. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Evans. I knocked before I came in… I thought that you heard me.” Dean recognizes the girl as the witness they had spoken with earlier. She still looks upset but now she’s also noticeably flushed, staring at Dean and Chris like she can’t physically look away. 

Chris looks at her but makes no move to get off of Dean’s lap. “It’s ok, Jessica…”

“It’s Jeanine, Mr. Evans.” 

“Right… Jeanine. What did you need?” He sounds perfectly polite but Dean can tell that he’s starting to get impatient with the girl – He’s still got one hand gripped tightly to the back of Dean’s neck, the other hand fisted on his thigh. 

“I’m supposed to tell you that you’re needed back on set… like, right now.” 

The poor girl looks like a startled rabbit and as soon as Chris says, “Thank you, Jeanine, I’ll be right there,” she nods her head quickly and runs out the door. 

Chris looks back at Dean once she’s gone, trailing a thumb over Dean’s lower lip before dipping the tip of it into Dean’s mouth and then pulling it back out slowly – scraping the pad on his teeth while he does. “I guess that’s my cue.” He sighs, and Dean can’t help but mirror the sentiment. He’s really starting to hate that Jeanine person. It wasn’t bad enough that she had to waste fifteen minutes of Dean’s life rambling on about her cat – now she had to interrupt what may have been one of the best sexual experiences that Dean will ever have! “I don’t suppose you’ll be free later on?” 

_Bingo!_ “I’m sure I could make some time. What did you have in mind?” 

“Well, I’ve probably got about another five hours of filming left for today, but after that…”He trails off and rolls his hips against Dean’s, making the implication crystal clear. Dean moan’s slightly at the feel of Chris’s still-very-hard cock and pulls the man toward him to kiss him hungrily. Chris allows it for a few moments but then pulls back again, this time slipping off of Dean’s lap and standing up. “Right now I’ve got to get going though. So I’ll see you back here in about five hours?” 

Dean stands up too, shaking his head slightly to try to clear his hormone-addled brain. “Yeah, absolutely. Five hours.” Chris walks across the room and picks up his Captain America shield (oh, fuck, the shield… Dean’s not sure he’s going to last five hours) and they both exit the trailer, Chris giving Dean a quick wink before he’s running off. Jeanine trails after him, throwing a strange look over her shoulder at Dean and then they’re both out of sight, leaving Dean alone with an uncomfortable hard-on and the taste of chocolate on his tongue. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He meets up with Sam a while later after speaking with some more movie people and surreptitiously checking the set for EMF. “So, did you find anything?”

“Nope. No EMF anywhere and no one I spoke with saw anything or knew anything that might have been of help. Scarlett Johansson did give me her phone number though.” 

“Seriously?!”

“No, Dean, of course I’m not serious. She’s a world famous movie star… why would she give me her phone number?” Dean gets a cagey look on his face and avoids Sam’s gaze, looking anywhere but at his brother. “Dean… did you…?” 

“What can I say, Sam… the good Captain was very… ah, welcoming.” Sam shakes his head and rolls his eyes, and Dean can’t help the huge grin that overtakes his face. “I sorta have a date scheduled for a later on.” 

“ _Dean…_ ”

“Come on, Sammy, it’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened. Remember Tara Benchley from ‘Hell Hazers II: The Reckoning’?” Dean grins wide but Sam just gives him an exasperated look. 

“Dean, we haven’t even figured out what’s going on here.” And now Dean is starting to get a bit sick of Sam’s shit – case or no case, Sam is _not_ going to ruin this for him. 

“Well, then let’s figure it out in the next…” He glances down at his watch. “…three and a half hours. I’ve got places to go… people to do…”

“Very classy, Dean.” Dean just shrugs. He’s well known for some things – badass monster killing skills, an awesome singing voice – class just isn’t on the list of Dean Winchester’s epic character traits. “So since there’s nothing else to learn here, maybe we should head back to the motel and do some research on the history of the city.”

“Yeah, alright.” They turn and start walking toward where the Impala is parked but on the way someone runs hard into Dean’s side, knocking him slightly off balance. “Hey! Watch where you’re… oh, Jeanine… sorry, I didn’t see you there.” 

“I’m so sorry, agent! It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going. It’s been a stressful day.” The girl is definitely looking a bit frazzled, her eyes are wide and her hands are shaking a bit. 

“Oh, hey, don’t worry about it. I’m still in one piece.” He pats her awkwardly on the arm and she shies away, turning to scurry off to who knows where. “That is one high-strung chick.” 

“She’s been through a trauma, Dean. Cut her some slack.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” They’ve reached the Impala by this point. “Get in the car, Dr. Phil.” Dean starts to wonder if there is, in fact, a limit to the number of different bitchfaces that his brother can produce but he figures he’ll leave that experiment for another day as he starts up his Baby and drives them back to the motel. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The brothers have been back at the motel for about two hours now. They’re no closer to figuring out who, or what, could have caused the mysterious death by burning in a room with no apparent source of fire. Sam is reading away, going from historical document to gossip site with no signs of flagging, but Dean has been becoming increasingly uncomfortable. His brain is foggy and he’s starting to sweat profusely – it feels like he’s in a sauna and removing his suit coat and tie doesn’t seem to be helping at all. 

“Does it feel hot in here to you, Sam?” He unbuttons his shirt and shucks that as well but it doesn’t really make a difference. He feels feverish but he’s dripping sweat so he doesn’t think it’s an illness that has him feeling this way. “I feel like I’m on the surface of the sun.”

Sam stops reading and looks up from his laptop, noticing Dean’s discomfort and his sudden state of sweat soaked half-nakedness. “It actually feels pretty cool in here, Dean. You turned up the AC a while ago and it’s gotten kind of frigid. Are you feeling ok?” He stands up and walks over to Dean, placing the back of his hand to Dean’s forehead. “Jesus, Dean, you’re burning up!”

“I don’t feel so good, Sam. Maybe I’ll just go and lie down for a bit.” He stumbles over to one of the twin beds and flops down on his back sideways across the mattress, his legs hanging off of the edge. Sam watches him worriedly but before he can decide what to do to try to help his brother, a patch of Dean’s pants suddenly bursts into flame. 

Sam shouts, “Dean!” and Dean looks down to where Sam is pointing, his foggy brain catching up quickly to the fact that something is seriously wrong here. And then Sam is covering his lap with Dean’s discarded suit coat, patting all over with his gigantic paws to try to put the fire out. His hand lands heavily on a hard round object and Sam plunges his fist into one of the pockets of the suit coat, pulling out a small leather pouch. “Hex bag!”

Sam digs his hand into his own pocket and pulls out his lighter, then proceeds to set the little bundle on fire. Almost immediately Dean feels his temperature drop and his brain begins to refocus, clearing away all traces of the witch’s spell. “Freakin’ witches!”

“Well, I guess that explains why there was no EMF at the scene.” Sam reaches out one hand and help Dean up to a sitting position. “Now we have to figure out who the witch is.”

“It was Jeanine, I’d bet my Baby on it. She bumped into me on the way out, remember? She must have slipped the hex bag into my pocket then. I knew there was something off about her. Nobody who likes cats that much can be completely stable.” Dean stands up and walks over to his duffel, pulling out Bobby’s old journal and seating himself again at the table. “I guess this is the perfect opportunity to try out that witch-killing spell of Bobby’s.” 

“Dean, we’ve never actually seen that spell work.”

“Have you got any other ideas, Sam?” When all Sam does is shake his head, Dean looks back to the journal and the list of ingredients. “I think we have everything that we’ll need in the trunk of the car. Why don’t you start putting this together while I take a quick shower? I feel like I just ran a marathon in the tropics.” Sam nods his agreement and Dean grabs a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom. At least they have the perpetrator figured out now. And if they can find her and stop her within the next hour and a half, Dean might even make it in time for his date. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thirty minutes later, Dean and Sam are back on the movie set, asking around to find out if anyone has seen Jeanine. “I’m pretty sure I saw her go into Mr. Evans’ trailer about half an hour ago.” The brothers both express their thanks to the squirrelly-looking young man who gives them this information and then they’re sharing a worried glance before heading off in the direction of Chris’s trailer.

Dean pauses a moment at the door as he listens for noises from within. He doesn’t hear shouting but he does hear the sound of a woman’s voice so he steps back and kicks the door open, gun raised as he shouts, “Playtime’s over, bitch. We know what you are and we know what you did!” Jeanine is standing behind Chris with a knife to his throat, the actor tied to a dining chair looking scared but relieved to see Dean again, if he’s reading it right. He’s also sporting quite a large goose egg on his temple, and now Dean really can’t wait to gank this evil bitch – no one should damage that beautiful face for real and think they can get away with it, not while Dean’s around to have a say. 

“You’re supposed to be dead! Why aren’t you dead?!” She’s not the most formidable foe that the Winchesters have ever faced, but she still has a blade pressed up against Chris’s carotid so they have to play this careful if they don’t want him to end up a bloody corpse on the floor. 

“We’re hunters – it’ll take more than one little hex bag to take us out.”

“I didn’t care about him…” She points her chin at Sam. “… I only wanted you dead.” 

“Oh yeah? What makes me so special?” She scoffs but answers him anyway.

“I saw you earlier… with Chris. He’s supposed to be with me! We’re meant for each other!” Chris widens his eyes and rapidly shakes his head back and forth, but doesn’t say anything. 

Dean tries to keep her talking, to keep her focus on him so that Sam can unobtrusively move further into the room, hugging the wall while he goes to try to get a direct aim at the witch. “What about Jack? Why did he deserve to die?” 

“Same reason. He told me that he and Chris were secretly dating – that they would meet in his trailer after hours and that Chris was going to be his sugar daddy, set him up in an apartment in Los Angeles and fly him around wherever Chris went to be available for sex whenever he wanted it.” 

“I didn’t even know the guy!” At Chris’s outburst Jeanine seems to remember that he’s there, yanking his head back to look up into her face. 

“Liar!” she shouts. But then she gentles her voice, practically cooing to Chris as she continues. “But don’t worry, Chris, dear. I’ll show you that you don’t need anyone else to be happy. You’ll see… it’ll only be me from now on who makes you smile.” This distraction is all Sam needs to make his move, and he’s tackling Jeanine to the ground and fighting for the knife. 

Dean pulls out his own knife and runs over to Chris, quickly slicing through the binding on his wrist and ankles and giving him a dashing smile before rushing over to help his brother. But he’s not fast enough – Jeanine has lost the knife but she’s managed to slip from Sam’s grasp. Before he knows it, Dean and Sam are both being force-pushed up against the opposite wall, held in place by the witch’s dark magic. “You can’t stop me! Chris and I are soulmates and there’s nothing you can do to change that!” 

All of Jeanine’s focus is on the brothers so she doesn’t notice when Chris rushes at her from behind. Then he’s restraining her by pinning her arms to her sides and Dean and Sam fall to the floor, once again able to move freely. 

“Sam! The bottle!” 

Sam pulls a glass bottle from his pocket and lights the rag that’s stoppering up the top, reciting an incantation while he does so. “Ego voco impetu delere… vos caelum et infernum!” 

Dean grabs Chris around the waist and shouts, “Let her go!” Chris complies instantly and then he and Dean are falling off to the side and landing in a pile on the floor, just in time to see Sam throw the flaming bottle at Jeanine. She screams when it hits her, and then she’s enveloped in a shimmery white smoke before completely disintegrating and disappearing before their eyes. 

“Holy shit! What was that?!” Chris looks surprised as all hell but he actually doesn’t seem too traumatized. Dean looks at him – he’s still in his Captain America uniform, and he’s breathing kind of heavily. He looks quite a bit like he just got finished kicking some hydra ass, like in the movie, and Dean really wants to kiss him. 

But he thinks that Chris may be a bit more freaked out than he’s letting on so Dean just drops his head back to the floor and sighs. “That was a witch-killing Molotov cocktail, basically… Oh, Jeanine was a witch, by the way.” 

“A witch, huh? So not a ghost then after all?” Dean looks at him again and the man is smiling, like, full-on grinning, teeth and everything. Dean gives him an incredulous look as if to say, _you just found out about the supernatural and it doesn’t even faze you?!_ Chris just shrugs and says, “What? That’s actually not the strangest thing that I’ve ever seen. You see some pretty messed up stuff in Hollywood. Besides… the way you busted in here, guns blazing, and saved my life… _hot_.” 

“Oh yeah? That do it for you, Cap?” Dean’s taking a chance by calling him ‘Cap’ but he’s hoping that the actor will be up for fulfilling some of Dean’s fantasies too. 

“Definitely.” Chris leans down and starts kissing Dean. The actor is full-on laying on top of him now and Dean is totally ok where this is headed but the two are suddenly reminded that they’re not alone when they hear Sam noisily clear his throat from across the room. 

Chris pulls back and Dean holds up one finger and says, “Hold that thought,” before extracting himself from Chris’s body and getting up to go talk to his brother. “So, Sam, I think Chris needs some consoling for the extreme trauma that he’s just experienced.” Sam snorts and rolls his eyes but Dean just grins at him and hands over the keys to the Impala. “I’ll call you when we’re done with our, uh… therapy session.” Dean gives Sam a quick wink and a trademark smirk and his long-suffering brother heads out the door. 

Dean locks the door after him and turns back to Chris. “No interruptions this time… So, where were we?” Dean takes off his jacket and walks over to toss it onto the loveseat, and when he turns back around Chris is right there, grabbing Dean by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together. 

“So… I’m guessing that you’re not really an FBI agent, are you?” Chris moves to start kissing and licking at Dean’s neck, pulling Dean’s over-shirt down and off as he does so. 

“Uh… no… sorry. But I could pretend to be if that’s what you’re into…” Chris pulls back and grabs the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, dragging it over his head and letting it drop to the floor. 

“Nah… ghost hunting, witch killing badass is more than enough for me. What about you, though? You called me ‘Cap’ a few minutes ago… is that what you want?” _Yes! Oh, please…_ Dean wants to beg, but he knows that he needs to calm down a bit if he isn’t going to come in his pants before they even get started. 

“I wouldn’t say no….” He’s trying to play it cool but he thinks Chris can see right through that because he just smirks and then steps back, pulling himself up to his full height and affecting the stern super soldier demeanor. “Maybe… could you put on the helmet?” Dean licks his lips, suddenly feeling foolish for what he’s about to ask. Only Dean will know the significance though, Chris will just think it’s part of the whole Captain America thing. “And you wouldn’t by any chance have that trench coat that you wore in the first movie, do you? You know… the one you wore when you ran through the rain?” 

“Trench coat? No, sorry. But the helmet I can do.” He walks over to the counter and picks up the helmet, snapping it in place before coming back over to stand at attention in front of Dean. “So, I’m Cap… who do you want to be?” He approaches Dean and steals a couple of quick kisses before continuing. “Should I call you ‘Bucky’?” Another kiss. “How about ‘Peggy’?” An exaggerated eye-brow waggle this time. “Please don’t tell me you want to be ‘Red Skull’…” 

“Uh… no. Dean. Just call me ‘Dean’.” Steve nods and lifts one hand to gently cradle the side of Dean’s face, tipping his head back and giving him a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“Well, _Dean…_ I’m going off to fight tomorrow. Where I’m going there’ll be enemies hiding behind every tree and I don’t know if I’m going to make it out alive. Can you make this a night that I’ll always remember? Don’t let me die a virgin, Dean.” Those words spoken in that deep voice with those blue eyes practically burning into his soul is all it takes for Dean to lose it completely – He hears himself whimper (and since when did he _ever_ whimper) and then he throws his arms around Chris’s neck and kisses him for all he’s worth. He thinks he’d do just about anything that the man asked him to right about now.

He slides his hands up but they’re stopped by the damn helmet. “I changed my mind… take off the helmet.” He doesn’t give Chris the opportunity to comply, simply unsnapping the side and pulling the helmet off himself. He tosses it onto the floor and then resumes the kissing, this time sliding his hands up unimpeded into Chris’s hair. It’s almost the perfect length (just a little bit too short) and if he closes his eyes he can pretend that the soft locks are dark brown instead of blonde. 

Chris breaks the kiss and then suddenly Dean is being lifted into the air – the actor has him in a fireman’s carry and is walking him through a door at the back of the trailer. A moment later he’s falling, dropping down onto a soft bed with a bounce. “Jeez, you really are strong.” 

“I’m Captain America. Of course I’m strong.” He stands at the end of the bed and begins to untie and pull off Dean’s boots, one by one. His socks come off too and then he kneels on the bed and reaches to undo Dean’s belt. He unbuttons and unzips the jeans and Dean lifts his hips to help the man as he stands back up and slides the jeans down and off of Dean’s legs. 

All that’s left is Dean’s boxers but he kind of feels weird being so unclothed while Chris is still wearing his (almost) complete uniform. So instead of letting Chris reach for the waistband of his boxer briefs, Dean gets up into a kneeling position and knee-walks over to the edge of the bed to where Chris is standing. He kisses the man on the mouth, slipping his tongue in to taste as much of him as he can. The taste of chocolate is gone this time but he thinks he can detect a hint of apples and cinnamon – Captain America tastes like apple pie, it doesn’t get any more perfect than that. 

While Dean is tasting, twirling his tongue around and kissing those perfect lips, his hands are occupied in sliding down Chris’s chest, over the large star in the middle and further along to the belt. He has to pull back and look down to figure out how to unclasp it but soon enough he’s got it open. He goes back to kissing Chris, unbuttoning and pulling down the hidden zipper of his uniform pants, and then he grabs hold of the waistband in both hands and slides the pants down over his ass and around to mid-thigh, taking his underwear along with them. 

He grasps Chris’s newly-freed penis in his right hand and can’t help but break the kiss to look down because _damn_ , Captain America is _big_. He’s not scary huge or anything but he’s definitely large – larger than Dean anyway, in both length and girth. “Wow, Cap, that serum enhanced everything, didn’t it?” He smirks at Chris and Chris just ducks his head and acts shy, or humble, or whatever – Dean thinks he’s probably just putting on the self-deprecating Steve act but it’s cute and it stirs something in Dean that he can’t help but react to so he tilts Chris’s gaze back up to his face and says, “Don’t do that, Cap. Don’t hide from me. I want to see all the super-human stuff that you’re capable of. Don’t hold back.” 

Chris surges forward and kisses Dean again, pushing his hips forward to thrust his dick into the tunnel made by Dean’s hand. Dean gets the message and starts working Chris’s cock, stroking back and forth and spreading the leaking precome down and around the hard length. He doesn’t do this for very long though. He’s wanted to feel Captain America’s dick on his tongue for quite some time, and now that it’s right there in front of him he just can’t wait any longer. 

So he breaks from the kiss and unclasps his hand to bring both up to Chris’s shoulders. He guides the man to a sitting position at the edge of the bed and then stands up before grabbing a pillow and throwing it down on the floor, situating himself back down on his knees, his body fitting perfectly between Chris’s thighs. “Lean back, handsome.” Chris leans back and props himself up on his elbows as Dean tugs his pants further down his legs. He has to pause and lean back as well so that he can pull off Chris’s boots and completely remove both the uniform pans and his underwear. When this is done Dean moves back into position in between the other man’s legs and starts working his hand up and down the mouth-watering vision that’s now directly in front of his face.

He gives Chris a slow smile, which the man returns, and then he leans forward and licks at the dusky, fat head, tasting the bitter liquid that’s pearling at the tip. It’s tastes just as good as Dean had imagined and he can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of his throat as he takes the whole thing in his mouth, sinking down as far as he can go without choking. There’s still quite a bit that he can’t fit in his mouth so he uses his hand to stroke what he can’t fit, working in tandem to make Chris groan and drop his head back. 

Dean pushes himself, working just a bit farther down on the shaft with every bob of his head, eventually reaching the tip to the back of his throat. He stills both his hand and his head and then swallows, causing Chris to breathe out, “ _Jesus…_ ” as his arms give out, and then he’s laying completely on his back with the fingers of both hands tangled in the short strands of Dean’s hair. He doesn’t push or pull – he just rests them there – but Dean turns his eyes up to catch Chris’s gaze, giving a small nod of permission, and then Chris starts slowly thrusting his hips upward, fucking Dean’s face firmly, but gently. 

“Oh fuck… _Dean…_ Oh shit, that feels good…” Dean feels a glow of pride at the praise but he wants more. He wants his whole body to be sore tomorrow, not just his jaw, so he pulls back insistently until Chris let’s go of his head, and then he pulls off completely. 

“Is this all you want, Cap? Or is there something else that you wanted to do to me? I remember you saying something about not letting you die a virgin?” Chris rolls up to a sitting position and takes Dean’s head in his two hands again – this time leaning forward and kissing Dean senseless. 

“I did say that, didn’t I? Would you like that, Dean? Would you like me to make love to you – to give you something to think about and remember while I’m off fighting monsters all alone?” 

“Yes! _Please…_ yes…” This time he does beg. He can’t help it as the words just slip out, pouring out of Dean from a place that he has kept locked inside for years now. 

Chris removes his uniform top and the tight shirt he wears under it, and then he’s standing up and guiding Dean to lie down on the bed. He fishes through the top drawer of the nightstand and finally pulls out a small bottle of lube and a condom packet, placing them on top of the nightstand before returning to Dean on the bed. 

He kneels on the bed and leans down to kiss Dean languidly on the mouth for a few moments, and then he travels down Dean’s neck and chest, trailing wet kisses and small licks and nips as he goes. He’s rubbing Dean’s erection through the material of his boxer briefs and once his mouth reaches them he takes the waistband in his teeth and uses his hands to help pull them down, freeing Dean’s aching cock to bounce lightly against his stomach. 

“So beautiful…” Dean blushes as Chris sits back to admire the view for a moment, and then he grabs the bottle of lube and spreads a generous amount in his right hand. He spreads Dean’s legs wide and sits in between them. He leans down to plant soft kisses to the inside of Dean’s thigh and runs his left hand up and down it as well, distracting Dean enough so that he doesn’t jump at the feel of wet fingers on his exposed hole. 

Chris smooths two fingers back and forth over his puckered entrance before dipping the tip of one finger past Dean’s rim. He goes slow, stretching Dean out firmly, but gently – first one finger, then two. By the time Chris is up to four fingers, Dean is panting and squirming – right on the verge of whining and begging Chris to hurry up and fuck him already. “I’m ready. Please, just… _please…_ ” 

Chris smiles at him and reaches over to grab the condom. He rips open the package and rolls it down over his own sizable erection, and then he uses some more lube to slick himself up. He grabs a pillow and places it under Dean’s hips, giving him the perfect height line up the head of his cock and push in. It’s a tight fit but Chris has done a thorough prep job and the head slips past Dean’s rim comfortably enough. Chris widens his knees and plants his hands on the mattress, caging Dean in, and then he slowly thrusts his hips forward until he’s buried to the hilt. 

He leans down completely and spends a few moments kissing Dean, giving him time to adjust before pulling back and then forward again. He slowly works his way out and back in again until he’s leaving just the tip inside of Dean and then snapping his hips forward as far as they can go. 

It truly does feel like Chris is making love to him. He’s moving his hips in a seamless roll, grazing Dean’s prostate on every other thrust. It feels fucking amazing and Dean can’t remember if it’s ever been this good before – the passionate kisses are just the icing on the cake of awesome that Dean is feeling right now. 

And if that wasn’t good enough, now Chris is sitting back on his heels, pulling Dean further into his lap as he continues to thrust. “How does that feel, Baby? Does that feel good?” He punctuates each question with a hard thrust right against Dean’s prostate and Dean makes incoherent sounds as he braces himself with his hands curled around the slats of the headboard. “Because it feels so good for me, Sweetheart. You feel so hot and so tight… You’re going to make me come, you know that? Are you close?”

Dean nods his head frantically. He’s so fucking close but it feels so amazing – he wants to feel like this forever but he also really wants to come, it’s going to be mind-blowing, he just knows it.

“Don’t hold back on me, Baby. I want to hear you.” 

At this, Dean starts to moan loudly, shouting out a “Fuck!” and a “Yes!” and once a “Jesus, fuck, Cap. Fuck me so hard! Yes! Right there!” 

“Touch yourself, Dean. Wrap your hand around your cock and make yourself come, Baby.” Dean does as he says, leaving one hand on the headboard as the other wraps tightly around his dick. It only takes a few strokes and then he’s coming so hard that he’s shooting all the way up his chest almost hitting his chin as he shouts wordlessly and then groans, working himself through it while Chris keeps pounding away at his ass. 

It doesn’t take much longer for the actor to come either – a dozen or so more hard thrusts and then his hips still and he yells, “Fuck! _Yes…_ ” Both of his hands are holding onto Dean’s hips, holding the Hunter firmly in place as he empties himself. 

He slumps forward (as much as he can in this position), chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Dean is lying in a boneless puddle below him, covered in sweat and come and completely exhausted. He can’t complain though – it’s been a really long time since he’s felt a rush of endorphins as potent as this without the running and fighting for his life that usually accompanies it. He’d be content to just lie here forever but all too soon Chris is pulling out and removing the condom, disposing of it on his way to the bathroom. He comes back a couple of minutes later with a warm wet washcloth and hands it to Dean. He supposes it would probably be rude to just throw it back in his face and go to sleep right where he is, so he wipes off the cooling come and gets up himself to use the bathroom. 

When he gets back, Chris is lying in the bed, halfway under the covers with his head propped on the palm of one hand. He motions for Dean to lie down next to him, so he does – resting on his back with his head pillowed in one hand while he looks up at the ceiling and contemplates the implications of great sex. “Sorry about breaking character at the end there. I just couldn’t help myself.” And oh yeah, Dean remembers that this dude is an actor and had been specifically playing a role that Dean had asked him to play. He doesn’t love Dean… he barely knows him at all. If Dean is going to lose his shit every time he gets laid, he thinks it’s going to be a very lonely future indeed. 

“Oh, hey, don’t worry about it. It was awesome.” Chris is running a hand over Dean’s chest and Dean can’t help but feel like he needs to bolt. He let himself get lost in Chris’s blue eyes, commanding voice, and powerful body and now he can feel the guilt start creeping in. The old sorrow and regret that he hasn’t had any success in shaking is latching onto his heart and making him vaguely sick to his stomach. He needs to get out of here but he doesn’t want to insult the guy – he was an epic lay and if Dean can just brush aside the shit that he’s feeling right now, perhaps in the future he’ll be able to look back at this experience fondly. 

Chris must be picking up on some of what Dean is feeling because he pulls his hand back and says, “I suppose you need to be going.” It’s not really a question – more of a statement of fact, but he doesn’t really sound hurt, so that’s good. 

“Yeah. My brother will be waiting for me – he’s got my car. And since we finished what we came here to do, we’ll be needing to get back to Montana. Speaking of which… are you really ok with all the witch-killing stuff? I mean, Jeanine is dead and you’re not going to be able to tell anyone what happened to her.” He searches Chris’s face for any sign of panic or uncertainty but Chris just shrugs, looking completely nonchalant. 

“Eh, she was a cold-blooded killer. She got what she deserved and I don’t think she’ll really be missed all that much. If anyone asks if I know what happened to her I’ll just tell them I have no idea what’s going on… it’s usually true so I don’t think I need to worry about anyone getting suspicious.” Dean stands up and starts collecting his clothing, getting dressed quickly and efficiently as Chris watches. 

“Ok. But I’m going to leave my phone number for you so if anything comes up, or if something else fishy happens, don’t hesitate to call. My brother and I go wherever we’re needed and we can handle all sorts of monsters so keep that in mind.” 

“Sure thing, Dean. And hey…” He sits up and scoots over to kneel at the edge of the bed, wrapping a hand around the back of Dean’s neck and kissing him softly once more. “If you’re ever in my neck of the woods again… maybe we can get together without the murder and mayhem, yeah?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” It’s not completely far-fetched – they could be relatively close to each other at a time when Dean isn’t doing his Hunter thing… ok, maybe it’s not all that likely after all. But he doesn’t need to say that out loud. So instead he leans forward and kisses Chris one more time, then he pulls back and walks toward the door. “Take care, Chris.” 

“Yeah, you too, Dean.” They exchange small waves and Dean goes out to the living area. He finishes getting dressed and scribbles down his name and number on a pad of paper on the counter before walking out the door and pulling out his cell phone to call Sam. He’s really not in the mood to deal with Sam’s shit right now but he’s tired and he’s hungry and frankly, he could use the comfort and familiarity that Sam and his Baby could give him. He’ll just have to push these guilty, shameful feelings back down like he always does and think about them another day. 

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They leave Ohio the next day and within the week random people are suddenly being abducted by demons and Dean is pretty sure that he’s losing his mind because he thinks he sees Cas walking along the side of the road, and then again outside their motel room in the middle of the night. 

But he’s not going crazy after all because Cas is there, standing right in front of him in the motel bathroom, saying, “Hello, Dean,” like he always does and looking exactly like he did the last time Dean saw him. 

He’s filthy and looks exhausted but Dean thinks he’s never been more beautiful. His eyes are even bluer than Dean remembers and before he can even think about stopping himself, he’s throwing his arms around Cas’s neck and kissing the startled angel within an inch of his life. 

Cas instinctively grabs him around the waist and it’s only a moment of stunned immobility before he’s responding enthusiastically, kissing Dean back with wild abandon. “ _Dean…_ ” He doesn’t say anything else but he doesn’t have to. 

“I know, Cas. I know.” Dean hears the sound of the motel room door opening and closing again and he mentally thanks Sam for actually knowing when to say exactly nothing for once in his life, leaving Dean and his angel to work out whatever it is that they’re feeling right now on their own. He doesn’t know exactly what’s going to happen from here on out but whatever it is, he’ll deal with it. He’s got Cas back and he’s never letting him go again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please check out my longer crossover fic "The Mistakes Aren't Just French Anymore." It's got a whole lot more of the Avengers crew as well as action and smut galore! :D


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